


You Know What They Say

by egocentrifuge



Category: Mythical Entertainment, Rhett & Link
Genre: Cunnilingus, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Premature Ejaculation, Vaginal Sex, allusions to slurs, college rhink, i fucking forgot to put a trans!link tag, it has it all!, jesus christ eggsy, oh also this is, plus some good ol' parental homophobia (non-explicit), second chapter is all sex, trans!Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21345661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: “I thought it was because of, you know,” Link says shakily, “having been a girl. Everyone always talked about us like we were going to end up married and I - I thought it just got into my head. Thought it was something I’d grow out of.”Something white-hot and urgent rises in Rhett’s throat, treacherous and insistent no matter how hard he swallows: Hope.“But?” he prompts, because he can tell that Link isn’t done; beside him, Link laughs shrilly.“I never did.”
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is unnecessarily dramatic but sue me, I love drama.

It's - well. It would be a lie at this point, after all the heartbreak and highs Link has been through, to say that it’s no big deal. But being trans, transitioning - it’s not who he is. There’s a person there, always has been, even if the first two decades of Link’s life were rife with misunderstandings and discomfort. Growing into a body that’s more and more resembling the one Link always wished he’d been born with has only eased the way for more of his personality to shine through. Without doubt and uncertainty dogging his steps, Link’s walked lighter these past few years, and the people in his life have finally started to understand that they weren’t losing anything: They were getting to see him, finally, unburdened.

Well, most people. Some of them - _one _of them had understood that from the beginning.

They’re three years into college and four into Link’s transition, now, and the way Rhett’s treated Link has never wavered. Even before the rest of them, before Link’s own flesh and blood, Rhett had taken Link at his word and treated him as the man he was. It’s been a touchstone in Link’s life, a way to ground himself when the doubt was nearly overwhelming. 

Link’s grateful. He is. There isn’t anyone he would have rather had on his side from the beginning. But as Link’s grown into himself and the hormone therapy has had its effect, a whole other host of issues have had Link doubting.

All Link’s ever wanted was to have been born as a normal dude. But now that his testosterone levels are stabilized in a healthy male range, he’s had a breast reduction to remove what little chest he had, and his stubble’s growing in faster than Rhett’s, there’s a problem.

Link might be a man. But he’s not… normal.

At first, Link was able to write it off as an old reflex, the attempt of the body he’d been born with to establish a normal life. He’d thought he was a girl, and Rhett was uncontestedly a boy, and so - well. There was that pop song always playing on the radio that summed it up perfectly: _Can I make it anymore obvious?_

Issue was, Link wasn’t a girl, didn’t even resemble one anymore. And Rhett - Rhett was arguably the only one who accepted Link’s manhood without any questions, reservations. They’d been roommates for three years, best friends for a decade before that. In Rhett’s eyes, Link had been his brother for almost all of them.

Why, then, was Link’s brain taking so long to get the memo? That he was into girls, as a guy should be, and that Rhett was firmly off-limits. The first part registered loud and clear, sometimes to a fault. It wasn’t easy, experiencing aftershocks of puberty at age 21; where everyone around Link was fully settled into their bodies and sexualities, Link’s was still changing. He’d nearly had an _incident _watching Fellowship of the Ring in theater with his then-girlfriend a few months back, revolving primarily around - shoot, what was the guy’s name? Whoever played Strider. 

Link’s a man, goddamnit, but he’s not a proud man. Though he’d never admit it outloud, he’s never been able to pretend he didn’t know that the rugged, soft-spoken, outdoorsy type did it for him. He’d freaked out a bit about it, but then, it’d been a comfort to have already experienced Rhett going through his entire Nirvana thing. To this day, the Foo Fighters are still a touchy subject; if Link has to hear another word about Dave Grohl he’ll probably scream.

Point is: puberty is weird, and Link’s had to go through it _twice,_ and the one constant has been his unending, uncomfortable, unforgiving infatuation with Rhett.

After this many years of letting his secret hammer against his ribcage like a second heartbeat, Link’s almost comforted by it. It’s Rhett, after all, and Rhett is safe, even if Link’s attraction is anything but. Now that he passes, the issues of being trans in the South have been replaced with being _queer _in the South, and Link finds himself reasserting his manliness now even more than before.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of it until Rhett tugs him aside during a party they’re old enough to actually drink _legally _at and asks if he’s okay.

“What?” Link asks, eloquently, already laughing. “I’m fine, dude - why?”

Rhett half-smiles, half-grimaces, like he’s embarrassed to be asking. Link’s hackles are up before Rhett manages, “You’re just - going kind of hard. I’m worried I’m going to have to pull you out of a fight or - ”

“You don’t have to pull me out of anything,” Link snaps, wrenching his arm away with a strength that still surprises him. Rhett’s surprised too, he can tell, but Link’s too busy being angry to gloat.

“I don’t need you looking after me,” he tells Rhett, voice almost a snarl. “Go - go worry about _Janet.”_

Rhett rolls his eyes and makes an exasperated sound but if he has a rejoinder Link doesn’t hear it, too busy stomping his way back to the keg.

Stupid Rhett, always hovering over Link like he - he needs protection or something, can’t look after himself. It might be bearable if it weren’t for that traitorous upkick of Link’s pulse each time, the low curl of pleasure he gets from being the center of Rhett’s attention. There’s a part of him that _wants _Rhett to take care of him, and as much heartbreak and hardship as Link’s put in to not be that girl anymore, he can’t stomach the idea that he might give it all up just to get a chance at having Rhett all to himself.

His stomach flips at the idea - no girlfriends, no looking away when their eye-contact gets too charged, no more wondering if he pissed away his only shot at having who he really wants - 

“Who’s next?” one of the frat brothers whose party they’d infiltrated bellows not five feet away. Even tipsy, Link can tell he’s not talking about _in line,_ but he steps forward even before the clarifying, “Who’s gonna do a keg stand?” is being shouted in his face.

_How’s this for going hard,_ Link thinks towards Rhett, looking over his shoulder as there’s a smattering of cheers and laughter. He can’t find Rhett in the crowd before there’s hands on his arms and he’s being hoisted face-first into a bad decision.

–

“Feel sick,” Link says feebly, not for the first time. Rhett heaves a sigh but steadies Link all the same, keeps a grip on the back of his shirt as Link doubles over and heaves. He doesn’t have anything left in him to get out, but Rhett knows from experience that doesn’t make a lick of difference to the nausea.

“You’re a fucking nightmare, you know that?” Rhett tells Link’s retching form. Link doesn’t give any indication he’s heard Rhett, which is probably for the best.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to look your momma in the eye when you’ve got a busted lip,” Rhett complains. Link spits a glob of frothy bile onto the ground before staggering upright again.

“You’re not my fucking _keeper,”_ he slurs, slapping Rhett’s hand away. Rhett lets him stumble for a few seconds before catching Link’s arm to keep him from kissing dirt. 

“You know, I think I’d believe you more if I wasn’t dragging your ass home,” Rhett retorts. It’s not the thing to say to get Link to calm down, but then, if Link possessed any chill then he wouldn’t have fucking gone and picked a fight.

“Shoulda left me there.” Link sways into Rhett’s side, nearly knocking them both off-balance, but Rhett rallies and finds his footing as Link goes on.

“I had a thing going with - with - shoot, what’s her name. She kissed, kissed me, y'know, after I sent that jerk packing.”

“You’re a hero,” Rhett says dryly. He’s an old hand at ignoring the ugly twist of frustration Link’s words provoke.

“Could have scored,” Link insists. “If you hadn’t'a showed up.”

Rhett steers Link around a pothole, not trusting him to stay upright in his current state. “You’re the one who said you were ready to leave,” Rhett points out. Link rolls his eyes hard enough that he nearly tips over.

“You were there,” he says. Rhett waits for more, but Link falls silent and stays silent. They make it almost all of the way back to the apartment before Link mumbles back to life.

“Didn’t like her all that much anyways,” he says, leaning into Rhett’s grip. “Just trying to make you…” Link freezes abruptly. “Oh, gosh - ”

That’s all the warning Rhett gets before Link’s dry-heaving again. It’s only as he’s steadying Link by his shoulders that Rhett realizes that the girl Link’d leapt to the defense of had been Janet from econ, the girl who’d invited Rhett to the party in the first place.

Rhett should be angry with Link for pulling this kind of petty shit, but all he can muster as Link scrubs his mouth with his sleeve is crushing relief that Link had just - what, been trying to show Rhett up, rather than being genuinely interested.

“My freaking face hurts,” Link complains. Rhett looks over to see Link prodding at the evidence of the punch he’d taken with his tongue.

“To look at, yeah,” Rhett says, then, “Come on, we’ll put some ice on it once we’re home.”

He thinks he does a pretty good job of hiding his good mood right up until Link lets the dishcloth and baggie serving as a makeshift icepack slide onto the couch and takes a deep breath, blurts, “Do you think of me as a girl?”

Rhett fumbles the PlayStation controller as he looks over. Link’s eyes have lost the hazy, unfocused edge of the very drunk and taken on something more aware, more _raw._

“What?” Rhett says, genuinely confused, stomach doing something urgent and unpleasant. “Why?”

“You know why, man,” Link says. It’s not snapped, no, it’s worse: low, serious. Accusing. “The way you treat me - the way you _look _at me…”

Rhett’s mouth is dry, a sharp contrast from the moisture that’s sprung up on his palms. “That’s stupid, man,” he tries, but his attempt at casualness is undercut by the way he has to swallow three times before he can get the words out.

Link’s jaw works for a moment before he’s pitching forward. Rhett has to stop himself from reaching out to steady Link, but he can’t hide the fact that he lets go of the controller, the dull clatter as it hits the ground. Link surveys Rhett from his new position with his elbows on his knees before he buries his face in his hands.

“I should’ve known,” Link tells his palms. “You were always so freaking perfect. As if anyone could be this lucky.”

“Hey,” Rhett says weakly. He isn’t sure if he’s going to deflect or beg until he opens his mouth again. “We’re still okay, right? We can - it doesn’t have to be a big deal, I’ll - ”

“Fuck. _You.”_

The vehemence in Link’s voice makes Rhett want to curl up and die. “I’m sorry,” he tries, but Link’s already barreling on.

“You think this is something I can just forget?” he snarls. “I thought - you were the only one, man, I _trusted _you.”

“I’m sorry, Link,” Rhett insists, voice cracking as he attempts not to cry. “I really - I never meant to - ”

“No one else believed me,” Link says. Rhett’s mid-panic, but it’s still a weird enough thing for Link to say that Rhett manages a soft noise of confusion. Link _tsks _angrily in response, but still goes on. 

“That I’m a _boy.”_

Rhett doesn’t understand what Link means for a long moment before clarity slaps him upside the head.

“That’s what you meant?” Rhett breathes, fighting back a hysterical little laugh. “Oh gosh, Link - no, I never - I freaking forgot, okay?”

“You what?” Link demands. He’s still bristling all over, but Rhett feels dizzy with relief.

“I forgot that you…” Rhett trails off and instead waves his hands vaguely to encompass his meaning. That Link was ever anything besides what he is now, that he could have possibly been asking if Rhett _actually _thought of him as a girl. The mere idea is laughable, but Rhett knows Link’ll try and deck him, drunkenness be damned, if Rhett so much as cracks a smile.

“Oh really,” Link says, flat and angry. “You ‘_forgot.’_ What the hell were you talking about, then? Huh?”

Rhett’s amusement dries up quick at that.

“It’s not important,” he says, ears heating, aiming for dismissive and missing the mark by a mile.

“You’re a freaking _liar,”_ Link accuses. “What the hell else could I have been asking? I can’t believe you’re trying to - ”

“Link,” Rhett interrupts, a bit frantic. “You can trust me, okay? I promise it’s - not what you think.”

“Then prove it.” Link stands up, only barely wobbling. Rhett has a vision of him throwing a punch, or worse, storming out of the apartment; they’ve never fought about this, or even _like _this, and Rhett’s getting a radiating sense of dread that it’s going to do irrevocable damage to their relationship unless he does something.

“I thought you meant,” he starts, stops as his heart attempts to beat its way out of his chest. “I uhm, I thought you meant, like…”

“Spit it out,” Link snaps. His hands are balled into fists at his sides.

Rhett closes his eyes. “If I thought of you - y'know, like I thought of girls.” Each word feels barbed in his throat, leaves him swallowing rapidly and searching for the taste of blood. Worse still is that he knows Link hasn’t understood based on the noise of annoyance; stomach lurching, Rhett pushes on.

“I thought you were asking if I had a crush on you, man,” he forces out. 

Link is blessedly quiet for a long moment, during which Rhett seriously considers whether it’s his turn to be sick or not.

Finally: “You were talking like you, like the answer was yes,” Link says carefully, voice subdued. Rhett blows a hard breath out his nose.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“But you - you said you don’t think of me as a girl.”

Rhett makes himself open his eyes, look up at where Link’s still hovering uncertainly. “I don’t,” Rhett says, firm as he can, because it’s fucked up that Link’s still worrying about that after all this time. “You know you’ve always been my brother, Link.”

Link’s eyebrows pinch together. “Then how can you…?” He trails off, apparently too embarrassed to say the words.

This time, Rhett can’t stop his incredulous laugh.

“I mean,” he finally manages, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice. “I never thought I’d turn out to be - to be _queer _either, but surely you’ve heard about guys being into guys before?”

“Shut - shut up.” Link’s eyes are wide, startled, and even with the fear and self-loathing making Rhett’s chest tight, he’s relieved Link no longer looks a harsh word away from shattering.

“You asked, buddyroll,” Rhett reminds him, rubbing a hand over his burning cheeks. “Now you have to live with knowing your best friend’s a fucking fa - ”

_“Shut up,”_ Link snaps, almost a shout. “Don’t, don’t fucking say it.”

Rhett swallows hard and sinks back into the sofa. His insides are churning, his face is hot, and he’s humiliatingly close to tears. He doesn’t look over as Link sits down again, picking up the half-melted bag of ice for something to do with his hands.

“It’s - it’s not a nice word,” Link says, voice small, sounding for all the world like the red-faced teenager who’d gotten sent to the principal’s office for punching an upperclassman who’d called him a dyke. Rhett digs a knuckle in under his eye and presses until it hurts, until he’s certain he’s not going to cry.

“You’re right,” he says dully. “Sorry.”

Rhett sees Link nod in his peripheral vision. Some part of Rhett wishes he hadn’t forced Link to drink all that water when they got back, still hopes that come tomorrow Rhett will be the only one cursed with remembering this conversation. Until:

“I thought it was because of, you know,” Link says shakily, “having been a girl. Everyone always talked about us like we were going to end up married and I - I thought it just got into my head. Thought it was something I’d grow out of.”

Something white-hot and urgent rises in Rhett’s throat, treacherous and insistent no matter how hard he swallows: Hope.

“But?” he prompts, because he can tell that Link isn’t done; beside him, Link laughs shrilly.

“I never did.”

It takes Rhett a moment to be able to look over, but Link’s not looking at him, is staring at the dripping bag in his hands like it holds the answers to life, the universe, and everything.

“It’d be easier,” he says quietly, miserably, “if I had stayed like I was.”

“That’s not - ” Rhett starts, but Link talks over him like he hadn’t spoken.

“It’s not great, being, y'know… different than everybody else, a-abnormal. If I hadn’t'a - god, I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rhett says stubbornly, refusing to let go of a chance he never thought he’d have. “I don’t care about what people think about me, Link, not if - not if I get to be with you.”

He wants to say that he’s already dealt with it, being friends with _that girl_ growing up, that it’d take a helluva lot more than nasty looks to scare him off, but Link doesn’t give Rhett the chance. He stands up, wobbling as much as his smile.

“You’re wrong,” Link tells him, almost gently, then he’s turning and making his way unsteadily towards their bedroom.

Rhett sits in the living room a long time trying to come up with an argument that will convince Link that Rhett’s sincere. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, doesn’t even think it’s possible to, but when he opens his eyes there’s light filtering through the streaked windows and the couch cushion beneath his cheek is damp.

“Come on,” Link is saying, shaking Rhett’s shoulder insistently. He drops it like he’s been scalded the moment he realizes Rhett’s awake, steps back with a nervous little laugh that Rhett knows means he remembers everything.

“Link - ” he starts, voice hoarse. 

“We gotta start driving now if we want to make it back to Buies Creek in time for lunch,” Link says loudly, talking over Rhett completely. “Diane is gonna have my ass if we’re late.”

Rhett snaps his mouth shut, resigned to a long drive home. 

–

So things are - okay. Not comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but bearable. Link’s trying to think of it as a headstart on the holidays. Nothing says _happy Thanksgiving_ like the tension between a room full of people wound so tight you can hear knuckles creaking.

Link’d gotten away with blasting Merle Haggard from his one working speaker on the way home, but it’s a lot harder to sing your way out of talking when your surrogate mother is clucking over your split lip at the dinner table.

“I just tripped, Momma Di, I promise,” Link lies weakly, trying not to wince as he smiles. He’d attempted to duck lunch entirely, but she’d had none of it, and even with last night’s humiliation fresh in his mind Link can’t bring himself to disappoint Rhett’s mother. He’s pretty sure he’s still managing to, based on her sad, pinched expression, but Rhett speaks up for the first time without being prompted and draws her attention.

“Don’t hassle him, Momma,” he says quietly. Relief and gratitude floods Link’s chest - maybe things can still be normal, after all - before Rhett goes on.

“It’s my fault. Link - got hit, because of me.”

“What?” Mr. McLaughlin says sharply. Link cringes, both at Rhett’s lie and Mr. McLaughlin’s sudden interest. It’s not like he ever said anything, but Link knows he’s never much liked Link or Rhett’s friendship with him. 

“Rhett,” Link tries, shooting him a look. Rhett doesn’t see it, though, is staring at his glass of milk like his life depends on it.

“He was defending me,” Rhett says woodenly. Link can see his pulse jumping in his neck.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Momma Di clucks, starting to reach across the table for both their hands.

“A couple of seniors found out I-I like boys and were trying to hassle me about it,” Rhett continues; Momma Di freezes. Link freezes. _Time _freaking freezes, leaves Rhett’s trembling voice the only thing moving in the entire universe.

“Link scared ‘em off,” he says, swallowing loud enough to be heard. “You should see the other - ”

Mr. McLaughlin’s fork clattering to his plate cuts Rhett off, makes them all flinch. It’s followed by the scrape of his chair as he stands up, leaves the room without a word. Link doesn’t breathe until there’s a gentle touch on the back of his hand - Momma Di, smiling a shaky little smile.

“Well that was awfully brave of you,” she tells Link, as if Link’s not another dropped utensil away from bawling. Her bright eyes turn to Rhett, smile wavering. “Both of you. Rhett - ”

“I’m going to my room,” Rhett says abruptly, quick enough that it almost comes out as one word. Link half-stands before he thinks that he’d better not follow Rhett and wobbles awkwardly for a moment, during which Rhett makes good his escape. 

That just leaves Link and Momma Di and Link’s creaking knuckles until she sighs and stands.

“Come here, sweetheart,” she says gently, and it’s stupid, Link’s an adult, but he still nearly trips in his haste to make his way around the table to accept her hug.

She’d always been the one he’d talked to - had always listened and done her best to help even when she didn’t understand - 

_That’s not what happened,_ Link wants to tell her now, but he can’t bear to admit to her that it’s _his_ fault her youngest son just - just - 

“I take it our Rhett didn’t tell you he was going to do that,” Momma Di murmurs. Link tries to say something, but all he can do is shake his head. Momma Di lets out a dry little laugh before patting Link on the back to signal the end of the embrace.

“Just like his father,” she says, offering Link another smile. This one is more earnest, if sad and a bit distant; Link knows she’s about to dismiss him before she does.

“I imagine your mother can’t wait to see you. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay to finish lunch, sweetheart, but - well." 

"Thank you for the food, Momma Di,” Link manages. She kisses him on the cheek, squeezes his hand one last time.

“You’re very welcome, Link. Always.”

Link drives home through muscle memory alone, his mind completely preoccupied with what Rhett had said and _why._ It’s not like Link had asked Rhett to make up some story to cover for the punch Link can hardly remember throwing, and even if Link had, why would Rhett go with that?

But then. Last night, after they’d gotten home from the party, after Rhett had told Link that he - he _felt _towards Link like he felt towards girls, Link had - Link had told him. Link had told Rhett that he wouldn’t feel the same, if they were actually together. If people looked at them and thought they were a couple. Link had told Rhett that he didn’t really want to be with Link as he was now, and so Rhett - 

Good _gosh,_ why had he started with his family? Couldn’t he’ve told Gregg or Tim, realized he was being stupid when they jeered and laughed at him? Or, or - at the party, Rhett could’ve done something there, seen that people really would throw a punch instead of making up some stupid story. God, Mr. McLaughlin was gonna eviscerate Rhett, and then he’d come for Link next, tell his mom as if it wasn’t enough for the woman to have lost a daughter, now she had a deviant son - 

By the time Link pulls into his mom’s driveway he’s shaking so bad he can’t get the door open. He has to sit with his head against the steering wheel and breathe for what feels like days to get his heart to something approaching normal. When he finally slides out of his truck the sun’s already started to set and his stomach is growling from the aborted lunch despite the dread curbing his appetite. 

There’s a light on in the kitchen, illuminating the stove where the oven’s on low. 

_Dear Link,_ the note stuck to the handle says. _I imagine you’ll be asleep by the time I get home from work, so I made you supper. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow! I love you so much, baby. I’m glad my son is home._

His mother’s signed it with a big heart and two x’s and when Link traces over “my son” carefully the tears finally come. Link cries because she loves him, cries because he put her through so much hell, cries because it’s not over. He ends up sitting with his back against the warm stove sobbing until his head throbs and he thinks there’s nothing left to cry in him, then he turns off the oven and sits in the bathtub and cries some more.

Eventually Link makes himself eat because he can’t bear the thought of his mother coming home to find her offering rejected. 

For once, sleep is a long time coming.

–

The third time Rhett’s door opens it’s not preceded by a knock, which means he’s not surprised when he looks up and it’s Cole. 

“Hey,” Cole says mildly. “Brought you food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Rhett rasps. Cole’s eyebrows quirk up.

“What, already full from all that cock you’ve been gobbling?”

“Fuck you, man,” Rhett says, but he’s too worn out to put any real heat in it. Cole closes the door behind him as if Rhett hadn’t spoken and comes to sit next to him on his bed.

“Come on,” he says. “Eat.”

Rhett takes the plate silently and starts eating with his fingers, heedless of the crumbs getting on his sheets. They’re already groty from tears and snot, a little food won’t make any difference.

For a while that’s it - Rhett eating, Cole sitting and watching him. Rhett’s patience runs out at the same time the food does.

“Well?” he says. “Just fucking say it.”

Cole looks at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“You - what?" 

"I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Rhett. I know Mom and Dad. It must’ve sucked.”

It wasn’t what Rhett expected, and he doesn’t know how to respond. His mind races as he tries to think of how Cole’s going to turn this on its head, but when he looks at his brother Cole’s face is twisted in what seems like genuine regret.

“You heard, though,” Rhett says carefully. “That I uh, came out.”

Cole looks distinctly uncomfortable. “Yeah, I - I walked into what felt like a wake and Mom told me.”

“How was she?”

“Oh, you know. _Your father_ this and _your father_ that. She’s as pissed as I’ve ever seen her.” Rhett winces, and Cole hastens to clarify, “At Dad, not you.”

“He didn’t take it well,” Rhett finds himself saying, voice small, as if that fact isn’t eminently obvious. 

The last thing Rhett expects is for Cole to reach a hand up and rest it on Rhett’s shoulder, keep it there.

“He’ll get over it,” Cole says, squeezing. “He didn’t approve of me going into seminary, for God’s sake. Don’t let his tantrum get to you. He just… has plans for us, you know he does, and he doesn’t like not being listened to.”

Suddenly Rhett’s eyes are stinging like he’s going to cry again and he scrambles for a distraction.

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to take His name in vain,” he chokes out; Cole grins at him.

“I went into seminary for the sake of God, I wasn’t cursing. And what are you trying to do, tattle?”

Rhett laughs and it’s wet with tears but it’s - good, cathartic. Cole rubs his back like their mother used to do for them, like she’d done a few hours ago for Rhett, until Rhett calms down again.

“Is it Link?” Cole asks then, voice soft and knowing and still amused, and Rhett groans into his palms.

“What do you think,” he grumbles. Cole laughs.

The tacit support of his older brother is enough for Rhett to brave going downstairs again, and though he avoids the living room, he’s glad to see his mother in the kitchen.

“Hi Mom.”

Diane looks up from the sink in surprise. Rhett watches her face go through several emotions - worry, relief, determination - before she smiles and wipes her hands on a towel.

“There he is,” she says warmly, which makes Rhett feel about five years old, but then pulls him down to hug him and Rhett doesn’t care.

“I know I said it before, baby,” she murmurs, head tucked under his chin, “but I want you to know that I love you matter what, and so does your father.”

“I know,” Rhett says thickly. “I love you too, Momma." 

It’s a long moment before Rhett can make himself pull away, even if he came down here on a mission. Diane’s cheeks are wet when looks, which threatens to set Rhett off again, but he doubles down and makes it out with only a few sniffs. 

"I actually uhm, I wanted to - to - I was going to head out, actually.”

Diane’s face takes another emotional journey before she settles on knowing.

“Do you want me to drive you?” she asks, not even doing Rhett the dignity of asking where he’s going. Rhett’s simultaneously relieved and mortified. 

“No thank you, ma'am,” he mumbles. The bike ride will do him good, and besides, the idea of his mother dropping him off at Link’s house before the conversation Rhett intends to have is - horrific. He has to promise more than once to be safe, get off the road if any cars are coming, and to call her if he drinks, but eventually Diane lets Rhett go.

Rhett rides.

–

Link’s used to sleeping in the same room as Rhett. Even before they lived together in the dorm, then in the apartment, they spent a lot of time at each others’ houses. It’d taken years to get their parents on the same page as the two boys insisting it was no different than any other sleepover (and though Link never woke up for it Rhett swears his dad checked on them three times the first time they slept in the same room), but Link’s still had ample time to get used to having someone else _there_.

Used to be he thought it was just having someone else around his age that made it easier to sleep, but at this point Link knows himself better'n that.

It was Rhett. It was always Rhett.

He’s an hour into a brood that honestly feels like it could drop into sleep any moment now when his window slides open.

“Oh, screw _you,”_ Link says shrilly, surprising himself with the force of it. “Sorry, no, go and burgle some other house you absolute - ”

“Link,” the burglar says.

It’s Rhett.

“Oh,” Link says, much more softly. “Oh, uhm. Come in?”

What follows is a nostalgic yet still hilarious thirty seconds of Rhett folding himself in half to be able to slither into the first story window and eating shit when he forgets Link’s bedroom floor is a foot higher than the ground outside.

“My mom’s not home,” Link points out once his hysterical little giggles have subsided. “I could have let you in the front freaking door, even if she _was,_ brother, we’re not kids anymore.”

“I know,” Rhett says, not bothering to get up, just scooting on his butt over to the side of Link’s bed. “I biked over, though, felt - y'know, clandestine and shit. Wanted to ride the wave.”

“You’re such a dork,” Link says. He’s horrified when his voice cracks halfway through. Rhett turns to him in the dark, already sitting up straighter; all the emotional turmoil of the past twenty-four hours comes back in a rush.

“Link,” Rhett starts, but Link’s already started.

“What the hell was that, Rhett?” he demands, throwing his blanket off and getting up to pace despite the chill in the room. “You - you - you lied to your parents, what, to prove a point? I know you got some splashback when I came out, you shouldn’t’ve - did you even think at all? I can’t believe - ”

Link’s one physical advantage over Rhett is that Rhett takes a long ass time to get up, but Rhett started compensating for that years ago by going for Link’s legs. When Rhett grabs at him, Link isn’t ready, and he ends up back on his bed with an undignified screech.

“Fuck you, man,” he snarls, or tries to; Rhett’s already got one arm across Link’s chest to hold him down, and the other hand is pressed tight over his mouth.

“Fucking _listen _to me for once, okay?” Rhett says, and he’s not even winded, the bastard. Link bites him just to be petty, then sags back into his mattress when Rhett doesn’t even cuss.

_Alright,_ he imparts with an eye-roll. _Be my guest, moron._

“I didn’t lie to my parents,” Rhett starts, then pauses. “Well I did, about why you’re hurt, but not - not about the other thing. The uh, the - the liking boys. Thing.”

Goosebumps race each other across Link’s skin. He opens his mouth to try and argue but Rhett’s holding him fast, not giving Link an inch.

“It’s never been something I wanted to do anything about. I mean, I like girls, too, and everything would be so much easier if I just found one I wanted to marry, you know?” Rhett dips his head for a moment, and some of Link’s anger fades. 

Link knows what it is to look _easier _in the face. Knows what kind of agony it is to turn your back on it, too. Rhett props himself up above Link, stops pinning him down.

“Rhett,” Link starts.

“There’s no one,” Rhett says before Link can go on. “Not a girl, not a boy, not _anybody _that I’d rather spend my life with than you. And if that means upsetting my parents or making strangers mad - ” He laughs, and though it sounds like it hurts, it’s genuine. “That’s what life is, right? It’d be pretty fucking lame to live without at least annoying a few - ”

Link doesn’t speak, doesn’t think he can, but he’s wanted to interrupt Rhett another way since he was thirteen and confused. It’s a desire that’s stuck with him for eight years, now, though most days Link can’t remember a time when he didn’t want to do it. 

Link kisses Rhett - hesitantly at first, almost flinching away when Rhett moves his head, then gasping when he realizes it’s just so Rhett can kiss back. For all that they’re adults, have done this with half a dozen girls each, they’re in Link’s childhood bed and it’s fumbling, chaste.

They’re still both breathing hard when Link falls back to the mattress with the damning squeak of springs that the bane of curfew breakers and masturbators everywhere. They both laugh, blushing, before Rhett leans down to steal another peck.

“You’re it for me, too, Rhett,” Link confesses. Rhett’s eyes go wide and wet and Link has just enough time to laugh before all the air is being crushed out of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Rhett doesn’t remember kissing ever having been this hard. It’s like all of his limbs require individual management while he _should _be focusing on kissing, and thirty seconds in he realizes he’s not breathing, like, at all. It takes another five seconds for him to remember that his nose is all stuffed up from crying earlier, and then Rhett has to figure out how to prop himself up without crushing who he’s kissing in order to pull back and breathe noisily through his mouth.

“This sucks,” Link whispers beneath him, laughing. Rhett - kind of concurs, but his _pride _is on the line, so he jams his fingers into Link’s ribs in answer. It earns Rhett a shriek and another laugh, which weirdly helps with the jangling nerves and self-consciousness.

It’s just Link. It’s Rhett and Link. There’s no way they can’t figure this out.

“Let me up,” Link demands, just as Rhett’s leaning down to give kissing another shot.

“What?” Rhett says eloquently, locking down his muscles so Link can’t squirm away. “No! I mean - why?”

“The freaking window’s open,” Link says, wriggling. “I’m not risking Mr. Thibodeaux calling the cops on us again, are you stupid?”

It’s a valid point - they’d had to beg Link’s momma not to tell Rhett’s parents back when they were teenagers up far too late just making each other laugh, and though they’re adults now, Rhett can’t imagine how well Henry Thibodeaux finding them doing _this _would go over. He rolls off of Link and nearly ends up on the floor.

“Your bed’s too small,” Rhett complains. Link giggles as he pushes his window shut.

“You’re too big,” he retorts, then - and Rhett can see it now because of the light Link flicks on - blushes.

“Oh gosh,” Rhett manages, feeling the color rising on his own cheeks. This time, Link’s laugh is shrill; Rhett covers his face with his hands.

“This is so freaking weird,” he tells his palms. It’s the truth. Link is - his best friend, his blood brother, and Rhett’s spent so freaking long being extra careful to think of him as only those two things that it feels like he’s doing something illegal by kissing him.

Link’d said he felt the same way, but that doesn’t stop him from putting his hands on Rhett’s legs and hauling him back to the middle of the bed, settling him flat on his back and then clambering on top of him.

“Oh gosh, Link,” Rhett manages, but Link just sits back on Rhett’s thighs, careful to avoid - well, you know.

“Come on, Rhett,” Link goads, voice a whisper but still aggravatingly cocky. “Where’s those smooth moves you bragged about, huh? Did you even really kiss Amber, or - ”

It’s the needling that does it, Rhett realizes even as he sits up and takes Link’s face in his hands. Pointless competition has always been their _thing,_ and Rhett’s not sure why it was Link that took advantage of that first.

“You’re not ready for this,” Rhett tells Link, though it comes out soft, almost mortifyingly sweet.

“You’re all talk,” Link mumbles, and then _he's _kissing Rhett, arms wound tight around Rhett’s back, stubble prickling against Rhett’s palms and cheeks. In light of the competition Link’s started, Rhett finds himself trying to take apart and rank each aspect - it’s hard, with his head starting to spin and the first shivers of arousal working down his spine.

Link kisses like he does most things: recklessly, with all his focus, and with little aftershocks of apology. Their teeth clack together more than once as Link adjusts, finds the right angle to make Rhett’s lips part for him, but the soft kisses he gives Rhett each time more than make up for it. Rhett’s had girls in his lap before, has been kissed in this same position; it’s hard to remember that right now. Link’s in control, knows what he’s doing and what he wants.

Rhett’s flushed when Link finally pulls back, breath puffing hotly against the stubble burn on Rhett’s cheeks.

“Are you gonna kiss me back?” Link says, sounding almost annoyed. “Or are you too chicken to - ”

Rhett finally, finally takes advantage of the hands he has on Link’s face and pulls him in to return the favor.

As much as Rhett has agonized over wanting to kiss his best friend, of course he’s put in a lot of thought as to how best to go about it. Used to be that there was a chest to avoid touching, even if they’d both agreed at age sixteen that boobs were awesome and Link did in fact feel himself up sometimes just to get to touch a pair, but Link’d gotten rid of those freshman year and now Rhett has free reign of Link’s chest. He runs one hand down until he finds a pec and locates a nipple to brush across; Link huffs against Rhett’s mouth in response.

“You can,” Link starts, squirms. “Harder, ah - I’m not as sensitive as I - ”

Link breaks off with a squeak when Rhett takes his words to heart and pinches the hardening nub. For a moment it’s like a dozen other times they were wrestling and Rhett cheated, but then Link sucks in a shaky breath and jams their mouths back together.

Things devolve rapidly from there.

From his position on top of Rhett, it isn’t hard for Link to shove Rhett down, lay on top of him to keep kissing. Rhett has a moment of panic about his boner now unmistakably jabbing Link in the thigh, but Link either doesn’t notice or is adjusting a lot better to the fact that they’re freaking _making out_ while _in bed together_ and rolls with the punches. Between gasping for breath and trying not to be really, truly embarrassingly loud, Rhett’s got enough brain powered reserved for panicking to be annoyed that Link is totally showing him up.

When Link pulls back, he has to prop himself above Rhett’s chest to avoid being entirely on top of him. He’s flushed, his lips are swollen, and at some point Rhett irrevocably ruined his hair.

“Are you freaking out?” Link accuses. Rhett tries pinching Link’s nipple again to distract from the fact that he absolutely is, but after Link shudders and slaps Rhett’s hand away he fixes Rhett with a piercing look.

“You totally are,” Link says. It’s - it’s a bad thing, right? But Link’s mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to laugh and some of the anxiety is gone, just like that.

“Yeah, well,” Rhett says. “I’ve never - done anything with a boy, alright? I know you and Ben - ”

“Oh, come _on,”_ Link complains. “We were like twelve, I was a girl, it didn’t - ”

“You held hands for like an entire week! I had to watch y'all - ”

“You were just _jealous _I was holding his hand and not yours,” Link snaps. Rhett shuts his mouth quick. Of course Link freaking notices - he’s right _there,_ close enough that Rhett’s throbbing boner is still poking him in the side.

“You were jealous,” Link repeats, surprised. His face twists in an attempt to frown and beam at the same time. Rhett feels unbearably self-conscious for a moment before he reminds himself that they’re here, they’re doing this - hell, Rhett had _come out_ to his family the day before. This is a thing.

“Of course I was jealous,” he mumbles. “You were… I mean. You were mine - like, _my _best friend. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t the one…”

It stupid how hard it is to admit this to Link. Rhett’s said more lovey-dovey shit to plenty of girls, but this is _Link,_ and Rhett realizes he’s still waiting for Link to laugh and pull back for all that Link was the one that kissed him.

“Rhett,” Link says, softly. “You know I… I’ve always wanted…” He blows out a breath that raises shivers on Rhett’s neck; Rhett’s comforted by the fact that it seems just as hard for Link to talk about this shit.

This time, when Rhett pulls Link back down to kiss, it’s slow. Rhett’s ribs ache with the intensity of everything he’s feeling, with _love._ He’s still reserving the right to freak out a bit, but it’s like he’s finally given himself permission to - to be gay about this.

Link groans against Rhett’s mouth; it takes Rhett a moment to realize it’s because he’s shifted positions and inadvertently pressed a thigh between Link’s legs. Rhett’s first reaction is bemusement - why would that do anything? Link’s not even hard - before he remembers and flushes all over.

Right. Link’s trans.

“Can I,” Rhett starts, then flips them without finishing the sentence. Link laughs, but it sounds breathless, and when Rhett looks down at him from their new positions Link’s eyes are dark and half-closed. Rhett kisses him again, because he can’t not.

“What do you want?” Rhett asks after he can stop kissing Link for long enough to get the words out. It’s an innocuous question with the potential to be annoying - Rhett’s pissed Link off enough times asking it when Link was throwing a hissy fit about not getting his way. But right here, right now, it makes Link flutter his eyes shut and groan.

Rhett gets a jolt of adrenaline and arousal when Link threads his hands through Rhett’s hair and pushes him inexorably downwards.

It probably says something that Rhett only realizes Link’s in pajamas when he’s face to face with soft flannel. It’s - disorienting, to say the least, that the fabric isn’t tented, but eye-level with Link’s crotch, Rhett can… smell him. It’s warm, savory; Rhett can’t stop himself from pressing his nose against the soft curve of Link’s mons and inhaling.

“Oh crap,” Link breathes, voice caught between disgust and desperation. Rhett rides the high of making Link sound like _that _and opens his mouth, exhales hotly through the fabric. Link shudders and bucks his hips up, hands pressing Rhett’s mouth _down,_ and Rhett’s head spins. When next he exhales, it’s a growl.

“Off,” he says, hooking his fingers under Link’s waistband. Link nearly knees Rhett in the face in his haste to obey. His pajama bottoms end up tangled around one ankle with his briefs as he flops back onto his bed, panting. Rhett’s jerked out of staring at the mess of pubes by Link’s pinched voice.

“You gonna keep staring all night or are you gonna suck me off, brother?”

Rhett doesn’t think before he’s tangling a hand in those curls and tugging hard enough that Link throws his head back with a curse. It has the side effect of revealing what Rhett’s after; he gets a shock of arousal twisted with fascination when he sees Link’s twitching clit. It’s - big, bigger than Rhett realized they could be, though that’s kind of the point of the shot Link does every week, right? Though the entire thing is no larger than Rhett’s thumb, it even has a head.

_I want that in my mouth,_ Rhett realizes, and before Link can complain that he’s taking too long, Rhett leans down and does just that. Link’s hands fly back to Rhett’s hair, grabbing and twisting thoughtlessly in a way that would annoy Rhett normally and only makes him shudder now. He’s - he’s gone down on girls before, but this is _different _even without the length he’s feeling out with his tongue. Link’s hips are restless in a way Rhett recognizes, trying not to thrust into Rhett’s mouth, and though Rhett can still breathe through his nose, he’s not sure if Link would let him pull off even if he tried.

Rhett’s proved correct a moment later when he attempts to pull off and Link’s hands tighten. Rhett huffs a laugh through his nose and fits his hands under Link’s narrow ass, rocks him against Rhett’s mouth.

“Oh my fucking gosh,” Link says, garbled, before he’s getting with the program and letting his hips do what they want. For the most part, Rhett tries to keep his tongue against the entire underside of Link’s clit, focuses on suction and stealing breaths when Link isn’t grinding his mons against Rhett’s nose. When Link’s clit stiffens and throbs against Rhett’s mouth, it’s one of the most incredible things Rhett’s ever experienced, second only to the mess of curses Link’s gasping as he curls over Rhett’s aching scalp.

When Link collapses back onto the bed, Rhett knows enough to stop sucking. He rests his head on Link’s thigh and gazes up fondly at where Link’s breathing like he’s run a marathon.

“That was like, thirty seconds, tops,” Rhett can’t help himself from teasing. Link smacks Rhett’s head but gets distracted petting through his hair.

“Screw you, man,” Link says without heat. “Let’s see how long _you _last before you start raining all over my parade.”

It’s an invitation, but Rhett can’t do more than shuffle until he’s sitting up between Link’s legs. It takes Link a minute to realize Rhett’s not moving, and he cracks an eye open and peers down the length of his body, lips quirking.

“Well?” he asks. Rhett glowers at him.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna - give me a hint here?”

“What?” Link asks eloquently. Rhett rolls his eyes, cheeks heating.

“What - what do you _want?”_ he makes himself ask, _again_. He feels stupid a moment later when Link opens his mouth, stops, looks at where Rhett’s sitting.

"I mean,” Link says, blushing himself, “I’m not gonna beg for it or anything, but if - I mean, you could…” For all that he’d been swearing like a sailor while he came, Link has to clear his throat a few times to even be able to manage a soft, “put it - in me. If you wanted.”

“That’s the least sexy thing anyone has ever said,” Rhett informs Link. It’s somewhat belied by the fact that Rhett has to reach down to grind the heel of his palm against his aching cock, and Link lets out something halfway between a laugh and a groan before flopping onto his back.

“Screw you, dude,” Link says. Something bright and effervescent sparks its way through Rhett and he opens his mouth without letting himself double guess it.

“You could,” he says. “If you wanted.”

Link stares at the ceiling for a moment before fixing Rhett with a wide-eyed look.

“What?”

Rhett licks his lips, makes himself say the words Link couldn’t.

“If you wanted to fuck me. I’d uh… be into that.”

He almost falls off the bed when Link swings his leg clear over Rhett’s head in his haste to stand up. Rhett’s left pressing against his dick feeling like a weirdo until he realizes Link’s going through the bag he brought back from college near frantically.

“Shit,” he finally declares. “Crap, I thought I - no, I didn’t bring it, did I? _Damnit.”_

“You have a - a thing?” Rhett says, surprised. It’s Link’s turn to shoot an unimpressed look over his shoulder.

“A _thing,”_ he repeats mockingly. "Yes, Rhett, I have _a thing,_ or as they’re more colloquially known, a strap-on. You know I’ve dated girls, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Rhett defends, taking the opportunity afforded to him by having free space to shimmy out of his jeans and boxers. “I didn’t think about the - you know, _details_, though.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Link says, but it’s a little breathless. Rhett looks up to find Link staring at Rhett’s cock with a little furrow between his brow.

“What,” Rhett says, barely resisting the urge to cover himself. He’s glad he didn’t when Link whips something at his chest a moment later and he barely catches it in time. Rhett’s affront dies in his throat when he realizes it’s lube.

“Lay down,” Link tells him imperiously. Rhett doesn’t even think about arguing.

They end up in much the same position as they’d started in, Link straddling Rhett’s waist, except this time Link’s got a death grip on Rhett’s wrist as he fingers Link to Link’s exact specifications. Lube is dripping down their combined hands onto Rhett’s stomach and aching cock, but he can’t bring himself to mind considering, holy _shit__ considering -

“Okay,” Link finally breathes, “I’m ready.” He lets go of Rhett’s wrist and starts reaching for his dick; Rhett lets out an undignified noise and blocks Link’s progress.

“Shouldn’t we,” he says, blushing at Link’s aggravated expression. “Condom?” Rhett finishes lamely.

Link’s face screws up for a moment before he smiles lopsidedly.

“I haven’t had a period in like three years, dude, it’s fine.” He pats his belly with his non-lubed hand. “The oven’s been disconnected from the gas, no bun’ll be cooking in here.”

“Again,” Rhett manages after tamping down his shaky laughter. “Your pillow talk leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Screw you, man,” Link says, still grinning, before slapping Rhett’s hand away from his cock and grabbing it. They both jump, which makes Rhett start laughing again, but his amusement dries up quick when Link spreads his labia with one hand and lines up Rhett’s cock with the other.

“Oh gosh,” someone says - it might even be Rhett - and then they’re both gasping as Link starts to take Rhett’s cock inside of him.

“Is it - ” _going to fit,_ Rhett wants to ask, but he can already imagine Link slapping and laughing at him, so he sucks in a desperate breath and frantically tries to think of something to cover his slip up.

What he manages, when Link’s all-but bottomed out, is a hoarse, “Good?”

“Yeah,” Link says, and his voice is - low, husky, the sexiest thing Rhett’s ever heard. Rhett’s cock throbs almost painfully where he’s been doing his best to ignore it, buried inside where Link’s hot and tight and wet, and Rhett has to close his eyes lest he embarrass himself.

Link notices Rhett’s struggle - of _course _he freaking notices, why wouldn’t he suddenly have freakishly good powers of observation when it stands to humiliate Rhett in the most intimate of spheres - and laughs lowly. It makes him tighten around Rhett and it’s all Rhett can do to groan and grip Link’s hips tightly.

“Yeah?” Link mocks, just barely grinding; it’s enough for Rhett to see stars. “You like that, Rhett? You like how my pussy feels?”

Rhett’s eyes slam open as he gasps.

_“Link,”_ he says - no, whines. He’s man enough to admit it. Link bites his lip through the most devastating smirk Rhett’s ever seen, and suddenly Rhett gets it: Link’s trying to make Rhett come faster than he had.

“You jerk,” Rhett manages; Link throws his head back and laughs, and Rhett nearly comes right then and there. He grits his teeth desperately, distantly aware that he’s gripping Link’s hips tight enough that his hands are aching, but if Link minds he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention, actually, too busy stripping off his shirt and making himself comfortable like - like Rhett’s cock is a freaking toy or something. Link’s not even _moving,_ but he’s clenching around Rhett’s cock and shivering each time. It’s been a long time since Rhett’s felt this close to the edge this quickly; he bites his cheek hard and reaches out to find Link’s clit.

“Oh,” Link gasps when Rhett finds it, then takes Rhett’s wrist and adjusts his grip so his thumb’s closer to Link’s body and all the ridges of his curled fingers brush against the head at each stroke. Rhett doesn’t dare breathe as he jerks Link fast and hard, able to feel his own orgasm hurtling towards him like a semi with no breaks.

“Shit, Rhett - gosh, are you - are you gonna - ”

“Yeah,” Rhett croaks, swallowing hard. Link has both hands braced on Rhett’s chest now as he shakes and shudders and _clenches _so devastatingly. Then his eyes open, and Rhett can only see a sliver of blue around Link’s blown pupils.

“Inside,” Link whispers, which shouldn’t be enough to have Rhett going off like a rocket, but still has him coming hard enough that he loses control of his vocal chords. When he can finally swallow down the porn star level moan, he discovers that Link’s pushed away Rhett’s hand and taken over.

Rhett muscles through the feeling of too much, too soon shivering through him and lifts Link just far enough off of him so that he can thrust into him. With the excessive amounts of lube they’d used to prep him plus Rhett’s come, it’s - messy, and each time their bodies meet there’s an obscene sound that’d make Rhett blush if he weren’t so preoccupied.

“Come on,” Rhett urges, lightheaded. “Come on, come for me, Link.”

It’s his name that does it, Rhett realizes as Link lets out a hiccuping little sob and slams down once, twice, then lets go of his clit like he’s been burned. It - stings, almost, to have Link convulsing warmly around Rhett’s softening cock, but Rhett can’t find it within him to be mad.

“Still lasted longer than you,” he slurs, exhausted; Link collapses against Rhett’s chest in retaliation.

“You should be grateful,” Link mumbles. “M'record’s like thirty something. Should be making you work harder.”

_“Thirty?”_ Rhett echoes. There’s no way - Link’s already half-asleep on top of him despite the mess still literally leaking out of him. Link’s jaw cracks when he yawns.

“Could’ve kept going but my arm got tired,” he confesses. “n'I got a headache. Dehydration. Too much - ah.”

Link wiggles until Rhett’s cock slides out with another little filthy sound, and Rhett’s left trying to wrap his head around what Link’s leaving unsaid. He thought he’d felt something, there at the end, felt a gush of something hot and wet…

“Bet I can get you to forty,” Rhett whispers, mind racing. Link snorts against his collarbone before pressing a kiss there.

“I’d like to see you make it past two, first,” Link challenges. Rhett rolls over on top of him and crushes a fresh round of giggles out of Link.

“That wasn’t a call to arms,” he laughs, but he’s grinning when Rhett kisses him, eyes soft and warm when Rhett breaks the kiss.

Rhett’s chest feels tight, achey as he smiles back.

“I love you,” he hears himself say before he registers that he’s going to say it. Link’s eyes widen and for a moment Rhett thinks he’s fucked everything up before Link’s hands are in his hair and he’s being shoved down the length of Link’s body again.

“Screw _you,_ McLaughlin,” Link groans, tacking on the faintest of, “I love you too, good gosh.” 

Rhett hides a grin against Link’s stomach before getting back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> visit egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com for more drabbles and unfinished fic.
> 
> also: I am trans! you don't have to be to have enjoyed this fic, but just in case you're wondering.
> 
> also also: use a fucking condom. don't be like link.


End file.
